


To a Wild Rose

by Hicburgli



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Performing Arts, Victor plays the violin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2019-03-21 00:48:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13729578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hicburgli/pseuds/Hicburgli
Summary: It wasn't the last time he played, rather, it was the last time he played as Yuuri Katsuki, the timid boy who traveled from Japan to Austria in the shadow of his idol.And as of January of 2016, Yuuri Katsuki played for the first time as someone who traveled from Japan to Austria as a gifted violinist, with the help of his idol."I'm happy to have found you, Yuuri Katsuki."





	1. The Last Time

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! 
> 
> I just wanted to try something fun and give this a shot. I've never written for YOI before so wish me the best of luck.
> 
> The first song I used that may be nice to listen to while you read is Tartini’s violin sonata in G-minor, ‘Devil’s Trill Sonata’ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z7rxl5KsPjs
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> \------

Following the full room of music came breathtaking silence that a pin drop could ruin. The only thing he felt was the heavy breathing that came with the adrenaline as his hand holding the bow fell. Everything beyond the spotlights looked dark. But that was only until the longest five seconds of his life passed when the crowd cheered. The first rose fell onto the stage and woke him from his own quiet galactica. And then tens of hundreds more. It was the year 2015, deep into the December winds. The day after his birthday. 

 

He finally watched with his piercing blue eyes as the crowd failed to let up on the clapping. He felt his arms have control again. And then his torso. And then his legs, and he bowed, feeling like the raw emotion he felt would make him fall in the midst of the bow. But he kept his composure. He always did.

 

This was Victor Nikiforov, the longtime holder of as many awards as you could imagine for his violinist career.

 

And this was his retiring show.

\---

 

_ “I’ve just decided to take my time and use it for more good in this world. When will there be a proper time to stop playing for me and start playing for others? Now is the time to take risks!”  _ Victor said with his champion smile to the reporters that bombarded him out of the concert hall that night. This was surely one for the books.

 

“I just don’t get it.” Phichit breathed as he turned the channel to some cooking show. He’d seen what he needed to see. “He was on such a roll, and he just up and quits?!” He looked back to Yuuri Katsuki, who sat on the other side of their small dorm room, perched sitting backwards on his desk chair, watching with awe at the television screen.

 

“Yeah.” Yuuri said in response as his mind went a million times a minute. This was groundbreaking for sure. “What do you think he’s going to do now?” He asked, now looking at the poster of Victor he had on his wall. “That whole interview sounded kinda cryptic.”

 

“You’re tellin me.” Phichit said as he stood up. “The end of an era, I guess.” He rubbed the back of his head and smiled. “Heh, maybe now we’ll have a better chance of getting our names out there.” Phichit was always one to look on the bright side of things. It was always the reason why him and Yuuri got along so well. Another minute passed and Phichit finally picked up his bookbag. “I have class in about twenty minutes, I should get going. You too, you don’t wanna’ be late.” 

 

As he left and the door shut behind him, Yuuri turned the TV back to the news.  _ “Victor Nikiforov has retired from his reigning violinist career! Absolutely astounding!” _

 

Yuuri watched in silence as he rested his chin on the back of the chair, deep in thought. Absolutely astounding it was. He had always looked up to this man who wasn’t too much older than him, and it surprised him everyday how one person could be on as high of a pedestal as he was, where Yuuri sat on the lowest of the lows. He wondered everyday how he got into this school. The most prestigious school  in the world, the University of Music and Performing arts, located in Vienna, Austria. People came from everywhere in the world just to have the chance of studying here. Hell, he himself came all the way from Japan to study here. And he thanked whatever god was up there for the scholarship he’d received to be there. Something in him at that moment felt uncomfortably empty as his idol retired from his work. He’d watched Victor play since he was named the ‘child prodigy of music’ after his astounding performance in Paris. 

 

What Yuuri wouldn’t give to play on that same stage. 

 

He won every contest that came his way, he played at the most prestigious of venues, yet somehow, Yuuri had never seen Victor lose his humanity on his rise to fame. He knew some show a soft face when the cameras were on, but the way he would lose himself in the music made any watchers melt. He really enjoyed music. And that’s what made the young Japanese flop decide to push himself.

 

And then he was crying. God, why was he crying?

 

As he wiped the tears from his eyes, he let his forehead rest on the back of the chair, closing his eyes as he felt like his heart would explode at any second. It hurt. And at that moment, he knew what it felt like to lose motivation.

 

And that’s why he cried.

 

It had been maybe a week since Yuuri had heard this news, and on this Friday morning at well before seven, he sat at the piano bench in the music hall. Nobody used this until ten at the earliest. So where was the hard in being there. He played ‘To a Wild Rose’ from Edward Macdowell on the oak wood classical piano, listening to the vibrations hit him straight in his core. As his fingers brushed each key, he saw across the room his violin, sat on a concert hall chair, looking at him. He looked back down to the music. He hadn’t played his violin in over a month.

 

The scene he imagined made him feel like he was there again. The minute he choked during the most important performance in his life. It was almost like yesterday.

 

_ He saw the stage before it had been set and before the guests had arrived, Yuuri sat on the edge of the open stage, looking out past all of the lights, knowing this night would be his turning point. The night he would finally be heard. And the night he would finally make his voice heard through his music. That was the way to tell you were brilliant. He knew this because he heard Victor’s angelic voice in all of his pieces he would play. And Yuuri wanted that too. _

 

_ Celestino entered the hall and spotted Yuuri on the stage. This was always a thing the young boy liked to do. Sit and watch before the chaos. It was his coping mechanism for being as awkward and reserved as he was. “You’re going to do fantastic.”  _

 

_ Yuuri looked up at his teacher. “Ah, you knew I’d be here.” He chuckled a little bit and looked up. “I’ve practiced all I could.” _

 

_ Celestino kneeled in front of him. “I know you have. Now look past the audience and focus on what you want to achieve.” He stoood back up and held a hand out to help Yuuri up. “Now stand up straight. Have confidence.” _

 

_ Yuuri felt himself shivering. It was warm from the lights so surely it was not because of the temperature. “Yeah. I’ll try.” _

 

_ He had named his violin after Victor. It was stupid. But it was his motivation. His idol. _

 

_ “Yuuri Katsuki. Get ready.” The man backstage said as Yuuri was smoothing the from of his suit. His blue striped tie had never looked better. He felt like he was on cloud nine. This was the first time he’d ever played like this. So many talent scouts were out there. _

 

_ “Thank you for joining us tonight for the performances of our gifted students here at the University of  music and performing arts.” The dean spoke quiet yet echoing through the microphone. “And a special welcome to our  most honored alumni, Victor Nikiforov. We thank you for joining us as well.” _

 

_ Yuuri’s heat stopped for a minute there. The dean wasn’t serious was he? He looked through a small crack in the curtains and low and behold, the spotlight searched and settled on a chair on the top row where Victor himself stood and offered a small bow.  _

 

_ “No. No way.” He couldn’t catch his breath. _

 

_ “Oh come on, Yuuri.” Jean-Jaques, known as JJ, a fellow student of the arts had said, patting Yuuri on the back hard, bringing him out of his nightmare daydream. “Just go out there and pretend he’s not there.” _

 

_ ‘How in the living hell can I just forget he’s there?! This is a disaster.’ He thought to himself as he felt himself melt. As he looked at his violin once more, he gulped. There was no turning back now. _

 

_ “We won’t waste any more time. Now let us begin with our pieces. I would like to first welcome  Yuuri Katsuki, our student in his second year, having only recently relocated from Japan to be here.” That was his cue. Another heap of air was taken. He felt lightheaded, his chest was pounding. _

 

_ He walked on stage and the audience clapped, and Yuuri looked up fro mthe floor to see Victor. Victor was looking at -him-. ‘I don’t believe it! I’m the center of attention. He’s looking at me.’ _

 

_ As his legs moved him uncontrollably to where the microphone stood, he cleared his throat, awkwardly too loud, causing a small echo. He turned red. “My name is Yuuri Katsuki. Tonight, I will be performing Tartini’s violin sonata in G-minor, ‘Devil’s Trill Sonata’. Thank you.” This was it. The silence of the crowd. They were waiting on him. Victor was waiting on him. _

 

_ This was almost a seventeen minute piece that went from whimsical, slow, and haunting, to a fast paced and emotion filled passionate second half. He had heard it from Victor maybe three years before in his performance in Moscow, and he was not about to mess it up. _

 

_ Until he did. _

 

_ He placed his chin on the chin rest and listed the bow, taking a deep breath in and looking at the violin. He began. The first few notes came easy to him. Low, quieter, and again, easy. They developed into the higher pitched notes as his eyes closed. He moved with the music and swayed with the violin as he ran his bow gently at the strings. The violin was cold. His hands were frozen and his breathing felt nonexistent, and he felt a small sweat bead fall down his back. He was the only noise in the concert hall at that moment. The piece slowed yo a quiet stop at minute four. He opened his eyes as it did so and found they locked with his idol.  _

 

_ He surely couldn’t look through the crowd. _

 

_ Minute four increased tempo at an alarming rate and as it did so, he found his sense of nerves getting the best of him as he felt his hands begin to shake. This translated to the music in an ugly way. He attempted to close his eyes again and closed them hard, attempting to focus only on the music he loved. He had put everything into this piece during practice, and he saw Celestino shaking his head as he moved his arms with the music in hopes of steering him the right way. At eight minutes and thirty seconds the music got even faster, as did his heart. And his face went bright red. Minute ten brought the worst of it. _

 

_ His bow fell. At minute ten, Yuuri Katsuki lost the control of his bow, and it fell to the floor during a shattering quiet. He gasped. Some in the crowd did to. As did his teacher. Victor leaned back in his seat, studying the scene.  _

 

_ The only sound in the room was his heartbeat. He had blown it. He was through. _

 

_ He slowly bent down to pick up the bow, and he looked once more to the audience. When his eyes met Victor’s again, a tear formed. Yuuri bowed quickly and placed it back in the case, latching it shut. The tear fell. That was the first time he cried on stage. _

 

_ That was the last time Yuuri played the violin. _

 

Or so that was his expectation.


	2. Muse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Котёнок is the russian verbiage for 'kitten'
> 
> A couple of songs that I used for the story and to set the tone.
> 
> 3 Gymnopédies-Gymnopedie No. 1 by Erik Satie and Klara Kormendi  
> Piazzolla: Libertango by Astor Piazzolla and Alison Balsom
> 
> Let me know what y'all think!
> 
> Thanks for reading!

 

\----

The school hadn’t changed a bit since  Victor went. Surely it had only been five or more years, but that still could have been enough time for change. It was the 2010’s after all. He noticed all of the little things he’d look at every day. The wild roses at the front of the school, the etchings in the cement, the same small places of shade under large trees where he would normally set during his breaks when he wasn’t in the concert hall practicing. One thing that he had not known at the time, but him and Yuuri had this in common. Always practicing in the concert hall while it was deserted.

 

He wrapped his scarf around his neck in one more loop to cover his nose to his mouth. He felt like a dragon with how much he could see his breath. It was January 2nd and that was purely evident by the extremely cold weather and the leftover banners that said ‘HAPPY NEW YEAR’. The shock of being here was high, and it was six thirty in the morning,so naturally there were no classes.

 

 _‘I must check out the concert hall, no?’_ Victor thought to himself as he proudly bounded through the courtyard in search of the hall. It wasn’t hard to find,considering he had this place mapped out like the back of his hand. As he entered, he stopped himself in the back upon hearing music. The concert hall was large and dark, so Victor didn’t need to try hard to be unseen. That’s when his ears perked up to ‘To a Wild Rose’ playing on the grand piano he used to spend most of his days on. It was a wonderful sound to his ears, considering that was a favorite of his. In front of him, he saw a seat with an old violin resting on it. The tag on it said ‘Victor’, and at the bottom read ‘property of Yuuri Katsuki’.

 

Victor’s eyes widened. _‘It’s him!’_

 

He grinned from ear to ear, now realizing he’s found who he was looking for. That didn’t take long at all. And so, he took his scarf off and carefully placed it on the chair where the violin sat, along with his winter jacket. He grabbed the violin and took the bow and instrument out of the case. As he smoothed his suit jacket, he began to walk down the steps behind him until he was unnoticeably standing directly next to him. Yuuri had his eyes closed this whole time as he let himself feel the music. He did this just about every morning before the classes would come in. His fingers gently brushed against the ivories as he played and they felt cold to the touch. He loved that. A cool breeze was felt on his neck like something had flown past. He made no attempts at finding the source until he heard something.

 

It was the same song, though played on the violin. Masterfully, at that.

 

Yuuri’s eyes widened as he continued playing in tune with the violin. He wanted to turn but he was still feeling the music. It was beautiful. It was ecstacy. He’d never played with someone else before. And when the song came to a close, he turned around slowly. “Wow… That was really-”

 

No.

 

No way.

 

“I know, shotty performance. I think I was off on the rhythm. I’ve never been as good at playing with others.” He set the violin on top of the piano.

 

“I’m happy to have found you, Yuuri Katsuki.” He said with a small smile.

 

Yuuri almost vomited all over that piano. He held it in and only screamed internally. “It’s-Wait-Victor?! What are you- looking for me?!” His face was as red as imaginable. Rightfully so considering the amount of stress he felt at that moment of having just played one of his favorites with his idol.

 

“I used to be in your shoes. I would come to this hall every morning before class to play. It is almost refreshing to see somebody else do that for once.” he placed himself to sit on the other end of the bench next to the blushing Yuuri. “I’m sure you remember our encounter last month at the recital you played in, correct?”

 

Yuuri swallowed whatever air was blocking his breathing. He could barely speak. He looked down. “Well, yeah. I mean, who could forget?”

 

“Surely not me.” Victor responded quickly. “Now tell me, why did you choke and drop the bow?”

 

Yuuri raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t like he did it on purpose. “I dunno’, I mean… I guess my nerves just got the best of me.”

 

Victor looked down at the age stained ivories and let a finger drag softly down the keys. Not playing anything, just touching them. It was the same piano too. “The key to a profound musician is feeling the music. Feeling the notes course through your veins.” He began to play. The soft yet deep notes howled from the piano.

 

“T-Three Gymnopédies…” Yuuri breathed. “Number one.” His jaw was as close to the floor as possible as Victor Nikiforov played another amazing piece next to him. -For- him.

 

“You are exactly right.” He effortlessly let the feelings of this song flow in him, and Yuuri felt it too. “I bet the way I choose to present this song and in what emotion is translating to you.”

 

He listened more. “It-” The younger boy thought for a minute as he felt his ears grow goosebumps. “I feel melancholy. Almost like a ballad to a lost loved one.” He spoke decidedly, something he’d never done before. He felt wrong for sitting next to such a legend.

 

Victor turned and grinned at Yuuri. “Exactly!” He chirped. “Well done, Yuuri~!” As he stood from the bench, he pointed to him. “A wonderful first lesson, I would say.”  


Yuuri was quick to stand. “W-Wait! First lesson? First lesson of what?” ‘ _What would -he- possibly want to do with -me-?!’_

 

“Yuuri Katsuki!” He ran a hand through the boy’s hair. “Today is our first lesson together. Because as of this July, I will be taking to my home country. Because -you- are going to be the winner of the International Tchaikovsky Competition!” He looked deep into Yuuri’s dark eyes. “We have but half a year left together for this, and I intend to make you the most talented artist this world will ever see.”

 

This was a lot. This was…

 

What was this?

 

Yuuri had no idea what to say. All he could do was turn bright red at the sudden touch to his head, and he immediately burst out laughing. “I -heh- I’m sorry! I j-just -haha!- You expect -me- to win?! The most competitive and prestigious strings competition in the world?! Me?!”

 

“I mean, I would hope I mean you, otherwise I just wasted a lot of time.” He patted Yuuri on the back and handed him his violin, hopping off the stage to head towards his jacket. “Now I intend to see you at this address after your classes at exactly one thirty sharp.” He said, flipping a piece of paper onto the stage. “Don’t be tardy! I have a lot of faith in you, Yuuri Katsuki!”

 

Yuuri didn’t move until Victor had exited the building before he fell to his knees, grabbing the paper. As he heard the door shut loudly, the tears fell. He found himself uncontrollably sobbing, because somebody had finally seeked him out to train. And it was Victor. His heart soared.

 

That’s when he knew.

 

This was going to be a big year. In more ways than imaginable.

 

-December 26th, 2015-

 

_“Victor! Victor you’ve -got- to be kidding me!” Yuri Plisetsky, child prodigy pianist shouted across the stage of an empty concert hall._

 

_The adrenaline was gone, there were hundreds of roses left uncollected on the stage, and Victor’s suit jacket was as fresh pressed as it was at the beginning of the performance. As he heard the younger boy shout, he simply chuckled to himself and looked down._

 

_“Hey! Don’t act like I’m not here, you shit!”_

 

_“Yuri! I do not condone that putrid language.” His coach warned._

 

_“Can it, Yakov! You should be just as surprised as me.” His blonde bob cascaded over his eyes, and he swept it away with one feisty flick of the wrist. “ Just what the hell was that stunt you just pulled?! Victor! Answer me!”_

 

 _At that, Victor chose to quit ignoring and stopped at the other end of the stage. “_ _Котёнок*_ _, what has gotten you so bothered?” He turned and looked back to Yuri. “Have I done something to upset you?”_

 

 _“You call me_ _Котёнок again and I swear I’ll-” He took a deep breath. He drew back the angsty teenager moment and simply crossed his arms. “It is my first time getting to participate in the_ _International Tchaikovsky Competition and you’re trying to tell me you’re retiring?!”_

 

_“Well, you see, Yakov can only train one of us at a time. And it would be such a hard time for him to choose. Isn’t that true, Yakov?” Victor cooed in the direction of his old coach._

 

_Yakov grunted in response, showing easily that whatever this fight was about, he wanted no part of it._

 

_“Quit avoiding this.” Yuri settled for using his indoor voice, which still echoed through the stage. “The real reason you’re retiring. Tell me.” There were many different emotions running through that young boy’s mind at that moment, some he didn’t care to address more than others. Anger being his most prominent, and sadness being his most hidden from himself._

 

_“I’ve found a muse.” Victor said finally looking out into the empty seats. “Someone I wish to invest my time in as soon as possible. I felt this show would be my best goodbye.”_

 

_“A muse…” Yuri repeated quietly. “A -muse-...?” He stomped towards Victor and landed a foot right on the older man’s back in anger, to which Victor seemed unphased. “That is one of the most idiotic things I have ever heard in my life.”_

 

_“You have a lot of life left. More idiotic things to happen.” Victor turned back to the younger protege and moved his hair behind his ear. “Young man…” He grabbed a rose of the ground and placed it behind Yuri’s ear. “I intend to turn a young man into a legend like myself.”_

 

_“And what did you intend to do with me? The one who truly deserves to learn from you?” Yuri asked as he grabbed the rose from his hair and gripped it tightly, and angrily. “The one you promised you would teach.”_

 

_“You act like I’ve planned nothing! I’m hurt you think I’m so silly!” Victor feigned hurt and grabbed a rose himself, looking down at it with soulful eyes. “We will be in Austria.” He said after some time having examined the flower for longer than expected, as if it held some kind of secret. “You’re welcome to come and prove your worth.”_

 

_“Prove my worth. Victor, you good for nothing piece of-”_

 

_“Yuri!” Yakov stopped him. “Enough.”_

 

_“You’re defiling my capabilities. And frankly it’s disgusting.” Yuri decided to change his profane verbiage for once. He paused. Looked at the ground, feeling defeated for only a moment._

 

_Yuri Plisetsky always had a knack for biting back. He stepped forward and let his fingers rest upon the flower of the plant that Victor was holding, using his two fingers to snap it clean off the stem. He let it fall to the ground._

 

_“Then I guess I’ll be seeing you in Austria.” He finished, giving the flower one quick stomp of the foot before storming out of the concert hall in annoyance. He had planning to do._

 

_Victor looked to where he had been and smiled, shaking his head. “Yakov, tell me with a straight face that his attitude doesn’t remind you of me when I first started.”_

 

_His former coach simply looked to Victor with a small smile. “I’m afraid I would be lying if I said I could.”_

 

_“I know.”_


End file.
